curse. They weren’t going to get anywhere if Taz couldn’t bury his caveman tendencies long enough for her to talk to a few naked men.
Pasting on her most sugary fake smile, she turned to greet her “husband.” She only got about ninety degrees before Taz encircled her waist, whipped her the rest of the way around, dipped her backwards and planted a kiss on her that had the crowd clapping. She could hear the cheers just barely above the blood rushing in her ears and the unmistakable sound of someone moaning in ecstasy.
Oh shit. That was her moaning. That is not what was supposed to be happening—but it was and toe-curlingly, amazingly so.
In a last-ditch effort for sanity, she pushed him back. Breathing hard, her entire body aching for him, she forced him back two paces.
“What are you doing?” she asked, even as her body clamored for more.
His lips curled into a slow, sexy smile. “Making sure everyone here knows that you may play with them, but you belong to me.”
She traced a fingernail over the curve of his biceps, adding just enough pressure to put a temporary white line on his brown skin and silently get her point across in case he missed the ice in her eyes. “Are you really peeing a circle around me? Now? At this particular point in time?”
Not even the brown-colored contacts could shade the wicked glint in his eyes. “Yes.”
Desire—hot, wet and undeniable—unfolded in her belly even as her temper flared. “You don’t own me.”
“I know that,” he said, reaching out and tugging her close so that their bodies melded together, his hand splayed across her lower back, searing her skin. “But what you need to realize is that you own me—body and soul.” He dipped his head lower, delivering a devastating kiss that was little more than a brush of his lips but still shook her to the core. “You have since that first night. Kitten, I’m yours.”
He didn’t kiss her again, but he didn’t move away. In this in-between moment, her brain tried to catch up with what her electrified body already knew. It was her play. Either way she went, she risked the kind of heartache that could knock her sideways and then come back to finish the job. Life was such a bitch that way. But no one had ever won a fight by staying in a crouched defensive position, and she wasn’t about to try to be the first.
“We can’t go back to what it was before,” she said, her mouth so close to his that her lips tingled in anticipation. “I need to know the real you.”
“All you have to do is ask,” he said, bending down whip quick to hook his arm behind her knees and lift her up into his arms. “But don’t even think about doing that now. I have other plans for the next few hours.”
He carried her through the laughing crowd to a cabana on the border between the pool and the beach. A bed draped in fresh off-white Egyptian cotton sheets took up most of the space under the high canopy. The teal voile fabric cascading down from the peak to the ground was see-through enough to give the impression of privacy without actually providing any at all. And with every ocean breeze, the fabric moved in waves, opening up in some areas to give the poolside audience an unobstructed view of what was going on in the cabana.
Excitement and lust careened through her. “They’ll see us.”
Taz lowered her until her feet touched the ground, Bianca facing away from him, exposed to the others. One hand cupping her breast and the other dipping between her legs, he kissed the sensitive spot where her neck met her shoulder. “Exactly.”
* * *
Taz
Taz felt it the moment Bianca agreed to his exhibitionist fantasy and relaxed against him—her center soft and slick under his fingertips, her breast full and heavy in his hand. Anticipation threaded through each breath. It was like those moments before the bell started a fight, when it felt like he owned the world. He’d stand in his corner, one gloved hand resting lightly on the
Pasting on her most sugary fake smile, she turned to greet her “husband.” She only got about ninety degrees before Taz encircled her waist, whipped her the rest of the way around, dipped her backwards and planted a kiss on her that had the crowd clapping. She could hear the cheers just barely above the blood rushing in her ears and the unmistakable sound of someone moaning in ecstasy.
Oh shit. That was her moaning. That is not what was supposed to be happening—but it was and toe-curlingly, amazingly so.
In a last-ditch effort for sanity, she pushed him back. Breathing hard, her entire body aching for him, she forced him back two paces.
“What are you doing?” she asked, even as her body clamored for more.
His lips curled into a slow, sexy smile. “Making sure everyone here knows that you may play with them, but you belong to me.”
She traced a fingernail over the curve of his biceps, adding just enough pressure to put a temporary white line on his brown skin and silently get her point across in case he missed the ice in her eyes. “Are you really peeing a circle around me? Now? At this particular point in time?”
Not even the brown-colored contacts could shade the wicked glint in his eyes. “Yes.”
Desire—hot, wet and undeniable—unfolded in her belly even as her temper flared. “You don’t own me.”
“I know that,” he said, reaching out and tugging her close so that their bodies melded together, his hand splayed across her lower back, searing her skin. “But what you need to realize is that you own me—body and soul.” He dipped his head lower, delivering a devastating kiss that was little more than a brush of his lips but still shook her to the core. “You have since that first night. Kitten, I’m yours.”
He didn’t kiss her again, but he didn’t move away. In this in-between moment, her brain tried to catch up with what her electrified body already knew. It was her play. Either way she went, she risked the kind of heartache that could knock her sideways and then come back to finish the job. Life was such a bitch that way. But no one had ever won a fight by staying in a crouched defensive position, and she wasn’t about to try to be the first.
“We can’t go back to what it was before,” she said, her mouth so close to his that her lips tingled in anticipation. “I need to know the real you.”
“All you have to do is ask,” he said, bending down whip quick to hook his arm behind her knees and lift her up into his arms. “But don’t even think about doing that now. I have other plans for the next few hours.”
He carried her through the laughing crowd to a cabana on the border between the pool and the beach. A bed draped in fresh off-white Egyptian cotton sheets took up most of the space under the high canopy. The teal voile fabric cascading down from the peak to the ground was see-through enough to give the impression of privacy without actually providing any at all. And with every ocean breeze, the fabric moved in waves, opening up in some areas to give the poolside audience an unobstructed view of what was going on in the cabana.
Excitement and lust careened through her. “They’ll see us.”
Taz lowered her until her feet touched the ground, Bianca facing away from him, exposed to the others. One hand cupping her breast and the other dipping between her legs, he kissed the sensitive spot where her neck met her shoulder. “Exactly.”
* * *
Taz
Taz felt it the moment Bianca agreed to his exhibitionist fantasy and relaxed against him—her center soft and slick under his fingertips, her breast full and heavy in his hand. Anticipation threaded through each breath. It was like those moments before the bell started a fight, when it felt like he owned the world. He’d stand in his corner, one gloved hand resting lightly on the
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